


Make Tacos, Not War

by UnluckyAlis



Series: Phic Phight 2020 [9]
Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Sam and Tucker are best friends even without Danny around, Sam and Tucker respecting each other's dietary preferences, Tucker eats vegetables and they don't immediately kill him, mutual understanding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:40:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23590057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnluckyAlis/pseuds/UnluckyAlis
Summary: Sam, tired of Tucker constantly ragging on her for her dietary choices, challenges him to go one week without eating any meat. If he succeeds, then maybe she'll finally tell him why she went vegan in the first place. (A montage of Tucker's first, and only, week as a strict vegan)
Series: Phic Phight 2020 [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1687510
Comments: 9
Kudos: 108
Collections: Phic Phight!





	Make Tacos, Not War

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nocturna_starr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nocturna_starr/gifts).



> Phic phight 2020
> 
> Submitted by Nocturna-starr: Why did Sam Manson choose to be a vegan? Sam explains to Tucker why she refuses to eat meat and why his diet bothers her.
> 
> Two people with conflicting views coming to a mutual understanding and learning to respect each other a little more? Hell yeah. Had a lot of fun looking up vegan recipes for this fic, saved some of them for later. I'm not vegan or vegetarian myself, though, so I hope I did Sam justice!
> 
> Takes place during the Fenton Menace, although that doesn't affect much.

**Monday – The Bet**

Monday morning, Sam and Tucker sat down at their usual lunch table without Danny. They were used to him skipping out on quality friendship time because of ghost stuff, but this week, it was his family that had him occupied. Danny had been on edge lately, acting paranoid, and maybe even hallucinating. Danny's little stint on the Spin-o-Matic definitely didn't help.

Sam and Tucker blamed it on lack of sleep because of all the ghost hunting, not that they'd tell the Fentons that. Maybe a little time away from Amity would do him good. Until then, it was just them holding down the fort until Danny got back. This meant that Sam knew exactly what Tucker was going to ask when he opened his mouth after they sat down.

"So, really, why do you–"

"No," Sam said, cutting him off. Ignoring Tucker's bewildered look, she popped the lid off her pasta salad. It was a new recipe she was trying out, with a spicy almond butter sauce rather than her usual vinaigrette. She was looking forward to it.

Tucker reached across the table, covering Sam's salad with his hand, forcing her to look up at him. "You don't know what I was gonna ask," he said.

Sam glared at him until he moved his hand. Gathering up a forkful of fusilli and red peppers, she took her time savouring the bite, chewing slowly. The sauce could use a bit of a stronger kick, but overall, she liked it. Only once she was satisfied that she had gotten a good taste did she swallow and answer. "Actually, I do, because you ask it every time Danny goes away."

Tucker scowled and folded his arms, unable to argue that point. "Okay, maybe I do. Answer me and I'll stop asking."

"Stop asking and maybe I'll answer."

"That... doesn't make any sense."

Sam jabbed at Tucker with her fork. "Neither does you being obsessed with why I'm vegan."

"I'm not obsessed! I just want to know, there's nothing wrong with that," Tucker said.

They glared at each other. By now, this was all routine. They weren't actually mad at each other, but their conflicting views meant they got annoyed with each other sometimes. It was fine, because they were always friends in the end, but sometimes Sam wanted to eat without someone questioning her dietary and moral choices.

Setting her fork down, she steepled her fingers and fixed Tucker with a calculating gaze. "Fine. I'll tell you. _If_ you go one week with a vegan diet.

"Um, what?"

"One week, no animal products, and I'll tell you. I know that would be practically torture for you, but–"

"Okay."

Sam faltered, "Wait, what?"

"Okay. I'll do it."

Leaning forward, Sam scanned Tucker's face. He looked completely serious, grinning at the challenge. Sam never thought she'd see the day where Tucker Foley would be excited about eating vegetables, but she wasn't about to toss away such a golden opportunity.

"Okay. It starts tomorrow, goes until next Tuesday. _No_ cheating. I've got a binder of recipes at home that Anna uses. I'll bring it to your place tonight," Sam says. She makes a mental note to talk to Tucker's parents about the bet, knowing how much they love their barbecue nights. With any luck, they will make Tucker stick with the diet. Tucker's mom should. Sam knew how much she liked to cook, and some of her vegan recipes might interest Angela.

"Cool. Wait, who's Anna?"

"Our maid."

" _You have a maid?!_ "

* * *

Surprisingly, it took Tucker a few hours to regret accepting the bet. He spent most of the afternoon feeling smug, knowing that Sam would _finally_ divulge why she was vegan. And then, when he got home, opened the front door, and was hit by the glorious smell of roasting ribs, he realized just what he'd agreed to.

"I'm going to _die_ ," Tucker moaned. Swinging his backpack off his shoulder, he tossed it into the living room and trudged over to the kitchen. Inside, his mom was working on dinner. They often ate early since she worked the nightshift at the twenty-four-hour pharmacy. Dinner for Tucker and his dad was usually breakfast for his mom.

"What's wrong, baby?" Angela asked, glancing at Tucker over his shoulder.

"I'm going to starve from lack of meat this week," he said.

"Oh, is this about that bet?"

Tucker lurched upright, slamming his hands on the table. "You know about that? How do you know already?"

Angela laughed. Tucker always thought his mom was really pretty when she laughed. "Sam called me not too long ago. I think it's a great idea! We should all try it for the week. As a last hurrah, I'm making your favourite food tonight."

"Cajun ribs?" Tucker asked, earning a nod. "Marinated steak bites?" Another nod. " _Beer-braised Szechuan chicken wings?_ "

"All of it!"

"Mom, you're an angel, I love you so much," Tucker said, practically drooling over the table. If he died this week from lack of protein, at least he will have had one last good meal to remember.

* * *

The doorbell rang halfway through dinner. Tucker, sticky-fingered, mouth covered in Szechuan sauce, went to answer it.

Sam stared at the orange sauce staining his lips. "Nice, Foley. That's a great look for you."

"Oh, shut up," Tucker said. He quickly wiped his mouth on the paper towel he'd brought with him. "Thanks for calling my mom, by the way. She's making all of us vegan for the week. I won't even get to come home and _smell_ the sweet, juicy scent of steak and burgers. For a whole week!"

"You can't tell, because it's on the inside, but I'm weeping for you right now," Sam said, deadpan.

"Yeah, whatever. Just give me the book."

Sam passed him the binder. It was surprisingly heavy, filled to the brim. Tucker was impressed the rings managed to hold all the pages. Didn't stop him from holding the binder away from his body like it was a feral animal, though.

"These are _all_ vegan?" Tucker asked, gaping at the pages.

"How many recipes were you expecting?" Sam raised an eyebrow.

"I don't know. Ten? It's vegetables. How much can you do with vegetables?"

Sam shook her head, sighing in disappointment. Clapping a hand on Tucker's shoulder, she leaned and said, "I really pity you, Tucker."

"Hey!" Tucker shouted, indignant. "Rude."

Sam, unswayed, rolled her eyes. "Suck it up, it's not that bad. Just look at a few of the recipes. You might actually like them."

"I am going to _die_ ," Tucker moaned. Opening the binder, he flipped through a few pages, his grimace getting deeper with each one. "Veggie burgers? A travesty. _Zucchini_ noodles? Do I have to say it?" He paused halfway through the book, pointing to a stained page. "Fried bean tacos?"

"I use that one a lot," Sam said, explaining away the stains. She wasn't the neatest cook.

"Okay, that one actually sounds kind of good." He snapped the binder shut and tucked it under his arm. "I still don't get why you can't just _tell_ me why you're vegan."

"I could, but it's a lot more fun this way."

Tucker disagreed.

* * *

**Tuesday – Day One**

In the morning, Tucker had a smoothie for breakfast.

"Sorry, baby. I need to go to the store and get some groceries to make most of the really good recipes," Angela said. She sipped at her own smoothie, bags under her eyes. This was her dinner before she would go to sleep. "I don't work tonight, so I'll pick some stuff up later. For now, your lunch is in the fridge."

Tucker shrugged. He liked smoothies, although he wished they were more filling. Downing the glass without complaint, he grabbed his lunch from the fridge—a single container, which didn't bode well—before setting his empty cup in the sink.

"Later, Mom. Have a good sleep!" he shouted over his shoulder before heading out the front door.

* * *

Tucker stared in dismay at his lunch. Tomatoes, cucumber, olives, red onions, sliced and diced and tossed into a cheap plastic container with a strong-smelling dressing. And some weird little green stuff scattered all over it.

"That's _oregano_. It's a pretty standard herb that your mom probably uses all the time. Don't be such a baby," Sam said. She tore into her bean burrito with gusto, smirking at Tucker from across the table.

"It's just... vegetables..." Tucker says.

"It's vegan."

"There's no cheese!"

"It’s _vegan_. And there's dressing. Just shut up and eat it."

"As soon as Danny gets back from his road trip, I'm going to tell him you tortured me. _Tortured!_ "

Sam ignored him, instead savouring her burrito and silently delighting in what a nice day it was. Sunny, but not too warm, with a cool breeze. The perfect day for lunch outside. They weren't the only ones who chose to sit outside instead of in the cafeteria, but everyone was scattered across the lawn, so it wasn't too crowded.

Tucker groaned. "I gave my mom the whole binder, and she chose to make this?" Looking across the table, he stared forlornly at Sam's burrito. "That at least _looks_ like something I'd eat. This," he gestured to his Greek salad, "is just plant stuff!"

"Congratulations, you know what vegetables are." Sam rolled her eyes as Tucker groaned again. "It's not going to kill you. You didn't have to agree to the bet."

"You didn't have to make it a bet. I just want to know why you don't eat meat, that's all."

Sighing, Sam put her burrito down. She folded her hands on the table and stared intently at Tucker. "I want to know why I have to explain my personal choices to you. Maybe I'm allergic to the preservatives people put in certain meat. Maybe I'm allergic to beef. Maybe I just don't like how meat tastes."

"I think we both know it's none of those reasons," Tucker says. Reaching into his container, he picks out an olive, grimacing at it, and pops it into his mouth.

"You're right. It isn't any of those reasons, but if it were, that would be my business. Do you get people constantly asking you why you eat meat?"

"Well, no, that'd be stupid."

"So why _isn't_ it stupid for people to ask me why I make my dietary choices? I'm tired of having to constantly justify being vegan. Yeah, there's more to it than me just liking vegetables. But, quite frankly, I don't owe anyone an explanation, especially when they're just going to scoff in my face about it and act like it's dumb."

Tucker stared guiltily down at his salad.

Sam stood up, re-wrapping her burrito, and shoved it in her backpack. "If you want to know why I'm vegan, then you have to respect the effort it takes to be vegan first. So shut up and eat," she said before leaving.

* * *

Tucker picked at his quinoa cakes, watching them crumble under his fork without actually eating them. Sighing, he stabbed at a chickpea and dragged it through the balsamic sauce decorating his plate, drawing meaningless swirls.

"Something wrong?" his dad, Maurice, asked. Hiding his mouth behind his hand, he leaned toward Tucker and whispered loudly. "Not a fan of the quinoa either, huh?"

"Maurice, you are going to eat every little seed on that plate or else I'm never making you ribs again. You need less red meat," Angela chastised.

"Oh, man," Maurice grumbled, but dutifully went back to eating.

"But your father has a point. What's up, Tucker?"

"I think I made Sam really mad today," Tucker said, lowering his fork. "I didn't think she really minded me asking about being vegan, but she got all huffy talking about respect and stuff."

"Do you respect her?" Angela asked. Her stare was intense.

"I mean, yeah. She's my friend. She's cool, and smart, and stuff." Tucker shrugged. "We wouldn't be the same without her." In a lot of ways no one else would ever realize.

"So, show her that. She wasn't 'huffy,' she was upset, and probably didn't think you were respecting her and her boundaries. Even if it seems like a small thing to you, it could be incredibly personal to Sam." Angela reached across the table and squeezed Tucker's hand. "Apologize to her tomorrow, and then everything'll go back to normal."

Tucker squeezed back, smiling. "Thanks," he said. Feeling better, he finally dug into his dinner. It wasn't half-bad.

* * *

**Wednesday – Day Two**

Catching Sam outside science class, Tucker grabbed her backpack and stopped her from going in. He had seen her from the other side of the hall and sprinted all the way down to intercept her.

"What do you want, Tucker?" Sam asked, shaking him off.

He held up a finger as he caught his breath. For someone who ghost hunted on the regular, he was really out of shape. "I'm sorry," he said. "I was kind of an ass yesterday."

Sam pursed her lips. "Yeah, you were."

"You're one of my best friends, and I respect you, even if I don't always act like it. You don't have to go through with your end of the bet if you don't want to," Tucker said.

"You just want to eat meat again."

" _Obviously_ I want to eat meat again. It's only been a day and I can feel myself wasting away." Sam started walking away. Tucker scrambled to stop her, latching on to her sleeve and saying, " _But!_ But I want to make it through the week. Even if you decide not to follow through, I will."

Sam's pursed lips softened into a smile. "I respect you too, Tucker. I may not like that you're practically a carnivore, but you're a decent guy."

Tucker grinned. Letting Sam go, he straightened up and reached into his backpack. All that honesty made him hungry. He pulled out his snack for the day, homemade fruit roll-up, and took a generous bite.

"You think we could have that exact same conversation in front of Melanie from calculus?" he asked Sam. "She said she really likes guys who respect women."

Sam hummed, like she was actually considering it. "I don't know," she said before walking into the classroom.

"Is that a yes?" Tucker shouted after her, mouth full.

"See you at lunch, Tuck."

"Sam, is that a yes? Come on!"

* * *

**Thursday – Day Three**

A solid block of tofu was not Tucker's idea of a good meal. A solid block of tofu marinated in a Sriracha-soy sauce, grilled, and stuffed into an English muffin was an okay meal. He licked a line of sauce dribbling down his fingers, enjoying the taste of turmeric.

"Is your mom only making the spicy recipes?" Sam asked. A victorious grin overtook her face at the way Tucker devoured his lunch.

"No, she made that fruit stuff, too. Tomorrow's pancakes for breakfast, apparently," Tucker said. He took another bite, chewing happily, and swallowed. "Tonight is some kind of pilaf thing?"

Sam frowned and asked, "Is it the one from the front of the book or the back?"

"I don't know. Why does it matter?"

"There are still a few recipes in there from when I was just vegetarian. My parents wouldn't let me go full vegan when I was younger because they were worried about protein intake," she explained. "Some of those recipes have eggs, milk, and cheese in them still, and maybe some fish. Most of them are at the front."

"Wait, wait, wait." Tucker lowered his sandwich. " _Fish_?" Last time he checked, fish was meat, which meant it definitely shouldn't be in a vegetarian recipe.

"I had a pescatarian phase before they let me go full vegan. Those recipes have blue circles in the corner. Make sure you warn your mom about them."

"Yeah, sure, whatever. But what the hell is pescatarian?"

A familiar glint entered Sam's eyes. It was the look she gave right before she was about to lecture someone. "I am _so_ glad you asked," she said sweetly.

"No, I take it back," Tucker said, shaking his head vigorously, but it was too late.

"There are actually a few different variations of vegetarianism. Lacto-vegetarians can eat dairy products, but no other animal products. Ovo-vegetarians allow eggs. Lacto-ovo is both dairy and eggs. Pescatarians, on the other hand, usually have no dairy or eggs, but they _do_ eat fish," Sam said.

She was brimming with excitement, eager that Tucker was actually showing interest in her lifestyle for once. In all their arguments about food, never once had he shown genuine curiosity for vegetarianism, only disdain.

"Isn't that kind of hypocritical?" Tucker asked. "Fish are animals. That's _meat_. That's exactly what being vegetarian is against."

"It depends on why they're vegetarian. It could be for dietary reasons, not because of a concern about animal cruelty. Fish has a lot of health benefits, especially for your heart, while too much red meat is bad for you. Or, they can be using fish as an alternative protein source. While mass fishing isn't without its issues, it has a lower environmental cost than raising livestock."

Tucker stared at her blankly.

Realizing she had lost him, Sam sighed. "Basically, there's a lot of reasons," she said.

Tucker nodded, finishing the last bites of his lunch. Even if he didn't really get what Sam was saying, she appreciated that he tried. Maybe Tucker wasn't a hopeless carnivore after all.

* * *

Long after Tucker was meant to be asleep, he sat at his desk, a bowl of Cajun-seasoned popcorn in his lap, and stared intently at his computer. The glow of his screen washed him in pale blue light, glinting off his glasses as he shoved handfuls of popcorn in his mouth.

Opening his browser, he typed into the search bar: _what makes vegetarianism better?_

* * *

**Friday – Day Four**

"Ha!" Tucker shouted, slamming a piece of paper down on the picnic table as soon as he reached it.

Sam tried to read it, but his hand covered most of the text. Lifting her eyes to Tucker's, she asked, "How were the pancakes?"

" _Aggressively_ mediocre," Tucker said, flopping into his seat. He swung his backpack up onto the table and pushes the paper toward Sam. "I found out your secret," he said in a singsong voice as he reached into his backpack.

Sam snatched up the paper, sparing Tucker an annoyed glare, and scanned it. "Did you print out a page from a discussion forum?"

"I needed evidence," Tucker said. Digging around in his backpack, he searched for today's lunch, eventually pulling out his burger. Portabella mushroom, carrot and cucumber slaw, avocado spread, and a tangy sauce stuffed into a rye bun. He was actually looking forward to this, but he'd die before telling Sam that.

"Evidence of what?" Sam said, giving the page a more thorough read.

"You vegans aren't so great."

"First, I never said we were great. Second, what the hell, Tucker?" Sam's gaze halted halfway down the page.

Tucker grinned smugly, knowing exactly what she had found. "Most of your precious vegetables are farmed using exploited labour. It's practically slavery. At least raising livestock doesn't have that."

"You think big corporations deadest on producing as much meat as possible are against exploiting workers?"

"Well, no, but–"

"And you're forgetting about local farmers. I get my produce as local as I can. I have a _greenhouse_ so I can grow my own food year-round."

"Maybe _you_ do, but I was just–"

"And just because the produce industry isn't 'pure,' that doesn't make certain livestock practices better."

"I didn't _say_ that."

"And I agree with you completely," Sam finished.

Tucker's next protest died on his lips. "You what?"

"I agree," she repeated. Folding the paper Tucker gave her in half, she slid it across the table back toward her. "No mass industry like that is perfect. That's exactly why I try to grow my own food and buy local as much as I can. But one person isn't going to affect much, so I protest, too. I speak out in the hopes that these practices will stop."

"Oh." Tucker deflated, his righteous indignation leaving him in a flash. "At least you know," he added weakly.

They ate in silence for a few minutes, Sam enjoying the very same tacos Tucker had pointed out the first time he opened her recipe book. Tucker chewed thoughtfully on his burger—which he decided was only okay because he didn't like the texture of the mushroom—and turned Sam's words over in his head. He specifically thought about her callout of big industries, something her family was deeply involved in.

"So, does everything you just said have anything to do with why you're vegan?" Tucker asked.

"Three more days, Tuck," Sam said, smirking at him over her taco.

"Ugh." Tucker groaned but let it go. Three days. He could wait three days.

* * *

**Saturday – Day Five**

Standing at the counter, Tucker flipped through Sam's recipe binder, giving it a more thorough look through. He easily found the recipes his mom had already tried, marked with green stick notes. A few more were marked in green. He figured those were ones she wanted to try.

Angela shuffled into the kitchen, yawning.

"Morning, Mom," he mumbled. After a moment, he blinked, frowning in confusion, and looked up. "Didn't you work last night? Why are you awake?"

"Anderson asked me if he could take my shift, needed the extra money. I don't work again until Sunday night, which means you have to suffer through me _all_ weekend, baby," Angela said, giving Tucker a quick hug and ruffling his hair.

"Ugh, Mom, nooo," Tucker whined half-heartedly.

"What are you doing?" she asked, seeing the recipe book laid out before him.

"Well, one of the reasons Sam wanted me to do this was so I could appreciate the effort being vegan took. Or something like that." He waved his hand dismissively. "But just eating the food doesn't take a lot of effort."

A proud small graced Angela's lips. "Do you want to help me cook today?"

Going back to the binder, Tucker showed Angela a page he had marked with his thumb. "Sam's got a couple snack recipes here. Appetizer stuff, like mini-tacos, stuffed peppers, assorted veggie bowls, stuff like that. I thought it might be fun to make a bunch of them."

"That sounds fantastic!" Angela said, giving Tucker another squeeze. "We can pick out which ones you want to make and go to the store. I'm going to tell everyone we run into what a considerate young man you are."

His cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

"We should have breakfast before we go. Anything in particular you want?"

"Um, actually..." Tucker trailed off. Blushing even more, he pointed toward the table. "I tried making the lettuce wraps, but, uh.... yeah."

The lettuce wraps were more like lettuce massacres. The iceberg lettuce wouldn't peel neatly off the head and Tucker ended up ripping most of the leaves in half, resulting in wraps that couldn't wrap around anything. Unevenly chopped vegetables spilled off the cutting board into the table. Off to the side, a ramekin filled to the brim, with sauce dripping down the sides, was in the process of staining the tablecloth.

"You are so lucky I'm here," Angela teased.

" _Mom_ ," Tucker lamented, but he actually sort of liked it.

* * *

**Sunday – Day Six**

Tucker rocked back on his heels, cradling his chin in his palm, as he scanned the Nasty Burger menu. He finally understood what Sam was talking about every time she complained about how there was nothing to eat her. For Tucker, who loved big, sloppy burgers, there was an abundance of options. But for vegans? Or even vegetarians? It was woefully lacking.

Which made sense, because it was a _burger_ place. But Sam said she couldn't get a decent vegan meal anywhere in a five-block radius around the Nasty Burger, which meant whenever she, Tucker, and Danny went to eat there, she couldn't pick food up somewhere else and bring it over.

Tucker hummed, looking over his limited options, and almost missed Valerie walking in front of him, heading around the counter to start her shift.

"Hey, Tucker," she said, pulling on her hat. She gave the acne-riddled teen currently at the register a wave. "You can go on your break, I'll take over."

"Thanks, Val," the kid said.

"So, Tuck. Might Meaty Melt with extra meat?" Valerie asked, already punching it in.

"Actually, no," Tucker said. He couldn't decide between the veggie burger or one of the salads. The kitchen probably didn't have a separate grill for the veggie patties. Would the meal not count if it touched beef juice? It wouldn't be the same as eating a beef burger, but Sam always said it made her uncomfortable knowing the veggie patties might have been grilled in raw juices.

"We've got a new meaty burrito, with sausage stuffed beef." Valerie waved to the promotional sign on the menu board.

"Sausage _stuffed_ beef? How does that even work?"

"No idea, want to try it?"

"Not today. What kind of fryer oil do you use?" Tucker asked, finally looking away from the menu.

"Uh..." Valerie frowned. Glancing back at the kitchen, she squinted at the fryers. "I think we just use canola, why?"

Tucker nodded, finally settling on his order. "I'll get the veggie burger, but can I get the patty deep-fried? And no mayo."

Valerie didn't make a move to punch it in. "What?"

"What?"

"You want a veggie burger?"

"Yeah." Tucker shuffled his feet, feeling awkward. "Why?"

"You. Tucker Foley. Carnivore of Casper High. You want a _veggie_ burger. With no mayo." Valerie looked like she just saw her dad petting the ghost dog that ruined her life. She looked like the world had turned upside down.

Immediately, Tucker realized he could have fun with this. "I'm vegan," he said.

Valerie's face went completely blank for one glorious moment before she screeched, " _What?!_ " Leaning across the counter, she grabbed Tucker. "Since when?"

"Uh, for a while now. Geez, where have you been, Valerie? Don't you know meat is murder?" Tucker asked, tutting and shaking his head.

Valerie, looking like she had woken up in another dimension, slowly punched in his order. Her shocked expression had Tucker giggling all throughout his meal. He made sure to look extra pleased with his burger whenever Valerie looked his way.

* * *

**Monday – Day Seven**

Tucker popped the last bite of his burrito into his mouth. It had been an absolute _monster_ full of three kinds of beans, guacamole, salsa, and a wide range of vegetables. His mom specifically saved that recipe for Monday night because she knew it would be his favourite. Chewing fast, Tucker didn't even take the time to savour, instead swallowing as fast as he could and throwing his arms in the air.

"I did it!" he cheered. Pushing away from the table, he leapt to his feet and whooped. He pranced around the room. "I did it, and I didn't cheat, and nobody can ever say I can't appreciate a good vegetable ever again!"

Sam, who had joined the Foley's for dinner that night, shook her head as she watched Tucker. She still had half her burrito left, as did Tucker's parents, because _they_ didn't try to inhale it like they hadn't eaten in a week.

Tucker skipped around the table and stopped beside Sam's chair. "Now you have to tell me."

"I thought you said I didn't have to?" Sam asked, raising an eyebrow.

Tucker went completely still, his face falling.

Sam laughed. "I'm just kidding. But I'm going to enjoy my dinner first. We aren't _all_ heathens," she said.

Groaning, Tucker returned to his seat. For the rest of the meal, he kept motioning for Sam to hurry up and finish eating. It only made her chew slower. When she finally finished, Tucker eagerly stood up.

"Okay, let's go," he said, grabbing her hand.

Sam pulled back. "Mr. Foley, would you like some help with cleaning up?"

She and Maurice shared sly, conspiratorial grins as Tucker protested loudly.

"That sounds _lovely_ , Sam. Thank you for offering!" Maurice said.

Twenty minutes later, when the dishes were clean, the kitchen was spotless, and the floor was swept, Sam turned to Tucker and said, "Okay, let's go."

"Finally!"

Tucker dragged Sam into his room, closing the door. He took the beanbag chair in the corner of the room while Sam claimed his desk chair.

"So, the reason?" Tucker prompted.

"When people get rich, the first thing they want to do is make more money," Sam started.

"What does that have to do with being vegan?"

"It's relevant! My great-grandfather invented stuff, and he was good at it. Made a lot of money doing it. By my grandfather wasn't as savvy. He took over the company, but he wasn't as innovative. To keep the money coming in, he looked to other industries," Sam said.

"Like farming," Tucker said. "You've mentioned that before."

"Yeah. When I was eight, before he passed away, my grandfather took me to one of his industrial farms. He knew I liked animals and he thought it'd get me interested in the family busy."

"When you were _eight_ ," Tucker deadpanned.

Sam nodded. "When I was eight. I saw how horribly the animals were treated there, and it honestly scarred me. I couldn't stand eating meat after that, not after knowing that's how they're treated."

"And that's it?" Tucker asked. He frowned, a little let down. The way Sam built it up, he thought there would be some big reveal. Maybe a deep, dark secret she never shared with anyone before. But it wasn't. She had just been a little girl who loved animals and hated to see them hurt.

"Sorry it wasn't worth the wait," Sam said with a wry grin.

Tucker shrugged. "Eh. My fault for building it up so much." He paused. " _Are_ you going to take over the family business one day?"

Sam lowered her cheek to Tucker's desk and frowned. "I don't know. I don't want everything to be handed to me on a silver platter just because my family has money. I want to work for it. But..."

"If you take over," Tucker said, realizing where Sam was going.

"I can change the way they do things. There are lots of ways to farm ethically. Small local livestock growers? I support them wholeheartedly. They care about their animals and make sure they have good lives before they're killed. I want the Manson Company to be like that," she said. "And until I can make that change happen, I refuse to eat meat.

"Huh. Well, if anyone can do it, you can. I don't think I know anyone as stubborn as you are," Tucker said.

Sam smiled softly. "Thanks, Tuck. That means a lot."

"Now will you talk to Melanie from calculus?" Tucker shot finger guns at Sam. "You never actually said no."

"Oh my god, you're unbelievable." Leaning over, Sam snatched a pillow from Tucker's bed and whipped it at him.

"Hey!" he rolled away, jumping to his feet, and hoisted the beanbag over his shoulder. "Was that a threat, Manson?"

"You think you can beat me, the reigning pillow fight champ since our first sleepover in third grade?" Sam asked, snatching up another pillow.

"I can damn well try!" Tucker pounced.

Sam immediately beat the stuffing out of him. But he wasn't too choked up about it. He made good on the bet, after all. Thanks to that, he now understood Sam a little better. Tomorrow, Danny would be back, and everything would go back to normal. There was no way Tucker would give up his food arguments with Sam, even if they had an understand now. They were just too much fun.

Lying on the floor, panting and wondering how Sam could bruise him with pillows, Tucker hoped Danny had fun this week. Tucker certainly did. 


End file.
